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Oh, My Brother

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Brother John

You never forget the sound of the telephone ringing
At 6:30 in the morning.
You never forget the sound of your father’s voice.
You never forget the little lie he told because the awful truth
Was too much to bear in the morning’s bitter light.
You never forget the sound of your own voice
Wailing at the foot of the bed.

My brother John died of suicide twenty-four years ago today. If you need help, please call 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or contact the American Foundation for the Prevention of Suicide.

David Von Ebers

An evil trial lawyer from Chicago, which makes me almost as bad as Barack Obama himself. Except, I am a Cubs fan, unlike our President, and so, as the kids say, I AM SHAME. I blog about legal issues, politics, sports, music (that long-haired rock 'n roll music all the kids are into), and, frequently, the interaction between any and all of the above. When I'm not busy undermining the Constitution or circumventing your freedoms, I run, watch too much sports on the teevee, and hang out with my long-suffering wife and three kids.

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